


W A R

by Solstarin



Category: The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-25
Updated: 2019-02-25
Packaged: 2019-11-05 16:58:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 548
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17922767
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Solstarin/pseuds/Solstarin
Summary: War was a woman, and War took all.





	W A R

**Author's Note:**

> Just a conceptual thing I had bouncing around in my head. Sort of freeform-ish, whatever. Enjoy! :)

Loki had always known war. He was taught the etiquette of battle hardly after he knew what the concept was, and he had lifted daggers just past lifting a pen. War, subterfuge, even betrayal was an art form. **  
**

Humanity had no such concept. War was fought with abandon, entirely free of the strict codes of conduct that he had been bound by in Asgard. Humans played dirty, until their last breath. And _ **she**_ was the living embodiment of it. She was bold, fiery, unwilling to back down in the face of _anything_. She knew no rules-- if there was something she wanted, there was nothing in all the nine realms that could keep it from her. He was quite sure she had never known the word _polite_ , let alone practiced it. He was _horrified_. 

And he was _obsessed_. 

He was furious to learn that he didn’t frighten her. Even the strongest of those he had encountered in his many battles could be turned by just the right flash of his wicked grin, a flick of his razor-sharp daggers, and a trick of the mind. She stood stony in the face of all of he could throw at her. He lusted after every second she would give him, first under the pretense of bending her to his will, but it swiftly turned on him and he lost himself in her fury.

Every touch, every fleeting look, every stolen, molten kiss left him craving more, and War was cruel enough to deprive him of all of it. She had taken him hostage, unequivocally, and he had absolutely no desire to leave. War wanted blood, and he was willing to give it to her. He let it litter bruises across his skin, make him scream until his throat was raw. It drew the very vitality from his veins, and he gave it up without a fight. 

She was a barely-contained fire, a cannon held back by a scant thread of patience. The Avengers used her, but they feared her. Loki watched her ravage through the world, ripping through every opposition put up around her. She tore her enemies to shreds, in whatever way would drive her message home. She fought till the last man standing, the last scrap of breath she could force from her chest. War arrived in a blinding flash, and was over just as suddenly.

War lingered long after she departed him, haunting his steps and lurking in shadowy corners. Long after the wounds of the dance had vanished, long after the hot, dark nights and the tempest of passion that she was. She festered in the minds of everyone who crossed the path she had razed, burned like embers in their bellies. There wasn’t a soul spared, not a life around her that she had not dug her claws into, that had not been affected when she was rent from them. Try as he might to leave her behind, to return to some sense of peace and normalcy, he could still feel the thrill of battle rush through him when he found her in fleeting nights and reckless humans whose eyes burned with her fire. War branded where she touched, and he would never be free of the scars.

War was a woman, and War took all. 


End file.
